


(It's A) Departure

by supernaturaltimemachine



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Canon Universe, During Canon, Episode: s05e05 Pena Dura, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Hallucination Ed - Freeform, How Do I Tag, Hugs, M/M, Memories, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Edward Nygma, Retrospective, Riddles, Scene Rewrite, both times they kiss, he's just a great plot device idk, i just love this scene man, i literally do not know how to tag things, i've literally rewritten this scene twice, maybe i'll post the other one someone remind me, riddles as love confessions, songfic if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturaltimemachine/pseuds/supernaturaltimemachine
Summary: Ed confronts Oswald. The feeling is familiar, but not too familiar (but not too not familiar).(rewrite of the s5e05 reunion scene except with even more feelings and they kiss at the end.)_Loosely inspired by the song (It's A) Departure by John Roderick and The Long Winters (off the album Putting the Days to Bed)
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80





	(It's A) Departure

**Author's Note:**

> ~special thanks to gothamvillians for beta-ing this fic for me~  
> _  
> de·par·ture (dĭ-pär′chər)  
> n.  
> 1\. The act of leaving.  
> 2\. A starting out, as on a trip or a new course of action.  
> 3\. A divergence or deviation, as from an established rule, plan, or procedure  
> 

As Ed Nygma shimmied through the vents of City Hall, he reassessed his plan.

Step one, threaten Penguin into admitting to whatever heinous thing he had done to Ed’s brain. Step two, shame him into apologizing. Step three, kill him?

No, killing him never seemed to work, and besides, if Oswald was dead he couldn’t take the blame for Haven.

Step three…

Ed heard Oswald’s voice from long ago echo through his head.

_"In these situations, the best thing a man can be is flexible."_

Very well, Ed conceded to himself. He’d cross that particular bridge when he got to it.

Fate certainly had a frustrating way of bringing them together. Even when Gotham was reduced to a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Ed couldn’t quite get away from Oswald’s influence. As he attempted to silently exit the vent into the main room of City Hall, Ed’s mind wandered to the possible reasons for why Oswald would use him as a puppet.

Was it some sort of revenge? Ed had technically killed him after all, but he had seemed content enough with freezing him and taking away his mental faculties. Ed shivered unpleasantly at the memory, gingerly exiting the vent and placing the grate silently beneath it.

Perhaps it was a tactical move, Ed considered, slipping soundlessly behind Oswald’s desk. Ed would take the fall for Oswald’s actions, keeping him in the good graces of the GCPD and Lord knows who else.

But no, that didn’t quite make sense either, Ed decided, grabbing a pistol from atop the desk. Oswald tended to take full responsibility for his actions. He wouldn’t resort to mind control unless he had exhausted all other options. And from the looks of things, he had plenty of other resources at his disposal.

Ed held his breath.

Oswald had just finished chewing out one of his lackeys and was now alone, monologuing to his dog, whom he had named ‘Edward’. Ed would have laughed if it weren’t so pathetic.

Growing restless, he cocked his stolen pistol and pointed it at the Penguin.

“Hello, Oswald. We have a great deal to talk about.”

* * *

“You have made me into some murderous puppet!” Ed moved the point of the gun from Oswald’s chest to the ceiling for emphasis as he launched into the speech he’d spent months preparing. “For weeks, I’ve been waking up in strange places not knowing how I got there or what I did. Driving myself mad- thinking I had gone mad! And now I know it was all your doing.” Ed found himself panting a bit. Finally saying it all aloud was turning out to be more intense than he had anticipated.

His words certainly had some effect on Oswald, whose face had been growing increasingly pained throughout the speech. Seeing such a response from his old friend caused some unpleasant feelings to well up in Ed’s gut, reminding him of all the times he’d pointed a gun at Oswald before. Ed’s voice wavered a bit as he concluded, “Of everything that you have put me through, this…” his chin spasmed. He clenched his jaw. “This is the most cruel.”

“Ed-,” Oswald’s voice cracked with the syllable. He paused. His eyes were shimmering with tears.

Ed was confused. In the time he had known Oswald, Ed had seen his fair share of the Penguin’s infamous tantrums. He’d readied himself for a violent reaction, perhaps a stab to the gut or a slap across the face. Oddly, Oswald didn’t seem to be angry. There was a different slant to his lips, one that reminded Ed of those nights in the Grundy apartment when the smaller man would wake up weeping for his mother. If Ed weren’t so focused on his vengeance, he might have felt something bordering on nostalgia at the memory. Years had passed, and yet those watery eyes remained the same.

The Penguin cleared his throat and quickly swiped a cuffed sleeve across his face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he asserted. “The last time I saw you, I ordered my men to take you and Lee Thompkins to Hugo Strange so I could pay him to save your lives. Whatever he did to you…” Oswald trailed off a moment, voice fragile. He scoffed and squared his shoulders, gripping Ed’s gaze with his own. “Whatever he did I’m sure I had nothing to do with it. Now, if all you’re going to do is stand there waving my own gun at me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Unless, of course, you want me to alert the GCPD to your current location.”

Ed took a step back. Oswald hadn’t addressed him like this in years. His severe expression left no room for the familiarity Ed had grown accustomed to from him. It was as though Ed were a mere flea to be plucked from the great Penguin’s back. There was no mercy left in his tone, just a stony annoyance. Ed was surprised to realize that the change stung.

Aside from Oswald’s demeanor, what he had said was disconcerting. The man claimed to have saved him from certain death. Not only that, but to have saved _Lee Thompkins_ , the woman Ed had betrayed him for and the ex-fiancee of one Detective James Gordon. Not to mention the horrible torture Oswald had once been subjected to under Strange’s care. It was out of character for Oswald to risk so much for two people he must have hated, unless he had some larger scheme in place.

Ed reflected on the months he had spent alone trying to survive in the wreckage of Gotham. If Oswald had wanted something from him, why hadn’t he reached out? He hadn’t even attempted to take credit for Ed’s resurrection. It didn’t make any sense.

“You paid Hugo Strange to save me?” Ed asked in disbelief. He pointed the pistol benignly back to Oswald. “Why?”

The Penguin huffed. The exasperation on his face made Ed feel small, a feeling that had grown foreign to him since those early days at his apartment.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you? A riddle, maybe?” The Penguin’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Ed’s befuddled expression seemed to be enough to convince him to elaborate.

“Fine. How about this one?” The Penguin rolled his eyes to the ceiling and inhaled deeply before reciting,

“I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with one glance.”

A shiver went down Ed’s spine. He recognized the riddle immediately.

Oswald brought a finger to his temple before holding it away from himself.

“I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two.” Oswald touched his right pointer finger to his left before outlining the shape of a heart as he spat out the final words.

“What am I?”

Ed blinked. Oswald’s gun clattered from his hand to the floor.

“No,” Ed choked, suddenly feeling as though all of the air had been pulled from his lungs. His mind, which had been speeding moments before, came to a grinding halt.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Oswald threw a glance at the gun on the floor before turning on his heel and striding across the room. He poured himself a drink of a dark-looking liquid from a bottle near the window (Ed guessed absently that it was some type of brandy. Oswald had always had a soft spot for those). He drained the glass before looking back to Ed. The green-suited man remained in the center of the room, statue-still.

“It would probably be best to leave the way you came. The army seemed pretty serious about finding you.”

Ed's thoughts moved through his mind like a river of cold molasses. There was Oswald, and there was love, and there was Ed. His mind, usually too good at finding connections, was seemingly unable to make sense of the three. Ed's other self looked innocently at Ed from his new perch atop Oswald’s desk.

“This shouldn’t be a surprise, you know,” he offered, pity clear in his voice.

Unbidden the memories came, prodding at him from the most secret corners of his consciousness.

_“I did it because I love you!”_

_“Talking to you these past months…”_

_“I won’t let you hurt him!”_

Oswald _had_ loved him. Past tense.

_“You were the one time I let love weaken me…”_

“He stopped loving us. After the ice. He- he let us leave.”

“How does the old adage go? If you love something, set it free…” Riddler trailed off, staring at Ed expectantly.

_“Trust is so very hard to find in Gotham.”_

Ed just stood there.

_“I’ll fix you...”_

The real Oswald’s voice rang from outside of Ed’s head, grounding him once more to reality. “Do you need anything before you go? Medicine? Rations?” Oswald’s face had softened. He looked concerned. Why did he look concerned?

Ed watched Penguin drag his eyes across his rumpled suit. The casual intimacy of the look was almost comforting.

“Maybe a change of clothes?”

“I- well,” Ed stammered helplessly. This was all too much.

Oswald made his way across the room to his desk.

“Wait,” Ed begged, too far gone to be ashamed, “I still don’t understand.”

“That’s something I came to terms with a long time ago,” Oswald replied, turning to sit unceremoniously in his chair.

“That’s not- I mean-” Ed grabbed at the air as if the words he searched for were tangible objects to be caught. He adjusted his glasses and tried again. “You stood to gain nothing by saving me. Even with your…” he gestured wildly, “feelings, whatever they may be, Strange isn’t cheap. It must have been a considerable waste of resources and for what? Saving a man you might never see again?”

Oswald smiled a deeply melancholy smile. The feel of it was suffocating, though Ed wasn’t quite sure why. It quickly turned into a grimace as Oswald steeled himself enough to speak.

“Love is not a logical emotion, Ed. It’s complicated, as you yourself well know.”

Ed nodded cautiously.

“At first,” Oswald continued in the careful voice he saved for explaining his schemes to low level lackeys, “I thought of you as some prize I could win. I thought that if I tried hard enough, eventually you’d see how much you meant to me and we’d run off into the sunset together.” Oswald looked down at his desk apologetically. “When that failed, I thought I could just keep around you like some trophy. A reminder of what I’d sacrificed in your name.

“There was only one problem,” he confessed, looking up to Ed’s blank stare, “Somewhere in there I started sincerely caring about your wellbeing. That’s not something I had ever really had to deal with before. At least, not since my parents.” The ghost of a smile played across his lips. His eyes glistened briefly and he blinked a few times before speaking again.

“After the smoke cleared, I had to confront the consequences of my actions. I had hurt you, Edward, and I had to confront what that pain made you become.” At the mention of its name, the bulldog bounded from the floor into Oswald’s lap where it comfortingly lapped at his hands. Oswald smiled weakly and stroked the dog’s back. “That day at the docks changed you, yes, but it changed me too. I still haven’t forgiven myself for what I did to you. If I had the chance to go back, to change everything, I’d take it in a heartbeat.

"But life doesn’t work that way. If you get offered a second chance at something you should take it, regardless of the risk. You taught me that.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “And I suppose, when I found you and that woman bleeding out on the floor, that’s what I did.”

“Oswald, I...” Ed’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

The Penguin plunged ahead.

“I’m saying I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, but if not…” He shook his head dismissively. “I want you to be happy, Ed. If that isn’t with me, I can cope. But listen to me when I say this:” Oswald nudged the dog off his lap and stood up from his seat, making his way to stand directly in front of Ed. “If I wanted you to suffer, I would never do it in some backhanded way. If you and I are ever at odds again, you will know, without a doubt, that I am your enemy. I promise you that. As a friend.” On the last word his voice broke. Tears streamed down the Penguin’s face.

Without thinking, Ed reacted.

It felt as natural as breathing. Oswald’s body stiffened initially out of shock, but soon melted into the taller man’s embrace as he was wracked with sobs. Ed stroked his back like he had so long ago, when Mr. Penguin had awoken screaming from nightmares or particularly missed his mother.

Ed gently maneuvered them into Oswald’s chair. He simply held the smaller man, stroking his hair and murmuring softly to him until the sobs faded. Ed realized then just how much he had missed this. Oswald Cobblepot nesting in his arms. The mere mention of the Penguin struck fear into the hearts of hardened criminals, yet here he was, crying into Edward Nygma’s shoulder.

_“I trust you, Ed.”_

The Riddler secured his grip on Oswald. He wouldn’t take that trust for granted again.

It took a while before Oswald calmed down enough to look up at Ed. When he did, Ed inspected his face. It was marred by black lines where mascara had been smudged by tears. His hair, so auspiciously styled, was now mussed up by Ed’s gentle caresses. It was a precious sight to see the Penguin so disheveled. Ed drank it in.

“What a mess,” he mumbled fondly, luxuriating in the warmth blooming in his chest.

“What?” The look of bafflement on Oswald’s face was so achingly familiar that Ed had to glance away.

“I might have killed you, Oswald,” he explained, stroking a gloved thumb across the other man’s brow. Ed dropped his voice to a near whisper. “And if that day comes, I swear to you, I will stare you in the eye as I stab you in the heart,” he confessed.

Oswald’s mouth dropped open. His dilated pupils scanned Ed’s face. The last time he had looked like that there was a fire flickering in the fireplace and bruises fresh on Ed’s neck. Ed licked his lips and swore he tasted ginger tea with honey.

 _Second chances indeed_.

Oswald looked almost dejected. His face seemed to ask a million questions, though gleaning exactly what they were was hard as Ed leaned in to kiss him.

It was sudden, rash, and, from Oswald’s reaction, deeply welcomed. His lips were soft and sweet. (A small part of Ed confirmed that it had indeed been brandy he was drinking earlier.) The kiss was short but after so many years of missed opportunities it was more than enough.

Oswald gasped and buried his head in Ed’s neck once more, tightening his hold around Ed’s torso. Ed turned his head slightly so his lips could meet Oswald’s cheek. He kissed delicately at the tears that were still glistening on his face. Oswald shivered briefly before relaxing into him once more.

“Eddie,” Oswald spoke, breaching the silence that had filled the room. “If Hugo Strange did something to you, it means you aren’t responsible for Haven.”

“You make a strong point,” Ed conceded after a moment, “but how am I going to prove that to Jim Gordon?”

There was a knock at the door.

“I’m not sure, but you’re not sitting around here long enough for us to find out.” Oswald stood up and dusted himself off, running a gloved hand through his hair as the knocking grew more insistent. “Go on. I’ll give you a head start.”

Ed didn’t need to be told twice.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this to vent my feelings but finished it because it's what the boys deserve. It's named how it is because MBMBaM has ruined me on the word "familiar" and the title ended up fitting the general vibe. Other than that they're completely tonally different but I would recommend [listening to the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_x7sA9V3Kmk), it's a bop and a half. 
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated! If you wanna talk more about these good good boys, or anything at all, feel free to hit me up on tumblr @/lateral-org or @/crowleys_hair on twitter. I've also got a [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/lateralorg) if you want to leave me a tip or would like to commission a one shot!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
